Kujdes! Caution!

In the previous entry, I mentioned that life here is sometimes dangerous. I’ve seen some creative ways of running electrically charged wires, I’ve seen potholes that could swallow a bus, and I’ve seen open holes in the sidewalk. But make no mistake about it: Albanians know all about these dangers inside and out. It’s us, the Americans, who are experiencing a learning curve.

I remember the first day we spent in Elbasan. Hours after we stepped off the plane with luggage in hand, our future language teachers gave us a walking tour of the city we’d be training in for the next ten weeks. I remember walking across a bridge that was completely missing about ten feet of railing, making it possible to drop ten to fifteen feet right into the water below. The sidewalks aren’t uniform in most places, so we have to heighten our awareness or we can get into trouble. There are some spots where metal grating is missing, which makes it possible to suddenly drop a few feet into the sidewalk. The heat and dust of the summer mean that most storeowners water their sidewalks—which makes everything incredibly slippery. Then there are the sidewalk ramps: at least three of us, including me, have bitten it on the ramps. When I did it, I was crossing at a lamp when my feet suddenly went out from under me. I hurt my foot badly enough that it still bothers me occasionally and I ripped the top of my big toenail off. We laugh about it now because we are used to it. But there was a time when we weren’t. I have fallen and slipped so many times in this country that it feels like I’m taking ice skating lessons for the very first time all over again. Just this past weekend, I slipped suddenly while carrying a plate and a half-full glass of Coca Cola. But I’m adapting well: I didn’t spill a drop and somehow ended up in a seated position.

Albania is also home to some of the most creative driving you will ever see. My personal favorite is the frequency of passing zones on the highway. Albanians, in their element, think nothing of turning a 2-lane highway into a 4-lane highway. There are moments when I’m traveling by minibus that I cringe or close my eyes, but nothing has ever happened. They pass on curves. They frequently drive in the middle of the road. My personal favorite is the afternoon traffic in my town, with all the cars full of people going home after a day at the beach. One Sunday, after a friend visited, we sat close to the main intersection waiting for a bus and saw six close calls over the span of twenty minutes. Most of the time, we just shake our heads in a mixture of fear and amazement. For many reasons, crossing the highway makes us feel instantly like we are in a real-life game of Frogger…without the advantage of a reset button.

But as we are able to observe and share these potential problems, we become more aware of the dos and don’ts. Fear or anxiety is replaced by a sense of caution. And the overwhelming desire to avoid ramps at all costs.